


Contact

by DryDreams



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, but then we fix it, just lots of emotional support and happiness and stuff, touch-starved jess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 10:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11576634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DryDreams/pseuds/DryDreams
Summary: Shipwatch Day 7 Prompt: First TimeJesse hasn’t been close to anyone, ever. It takes a long while for him to figure out where he belongs.





	Contact

Jesse McCree wasn’t always very familiar with touch. The exception being a punch to the arm or a scrap on the training mat. In Deadlock, he had been the kid, too young to sleep with so ‘relationships’ were out of the question. They weren’t exactly a ruffle-your-hair kind of people, either.

In Blackwatch he just hadn't bothered to get close enough to anyone at first, and no one had bothered to get close enough to him. Even though Commander Reyes was the one who knew him best, Jesse wasn’t that close to him either at first. Reyes wasn't--didn't seem to be--one to show much affection at all when it wasn't necessary. 

Jesse knew Reyes wasn't cold inside like everyone said he was behind his back. The Commander had firmly talked Jesse through too many training roadblocks and midnight panic attacks to be heartless. Not sure why no one else knew, he thought surely Reyes had done the same for others. Maybe, like Jesse, they were simply too proud to bring it up. He sure wasn't about to brag about the fact that he needed to be coddled, but he was grateful. No one had bothered to care about him like Reyes did since Jesse was a little boy. 

The help was not welcomed at first. It had taken months before Jesse began to not think of Reyes as his captor. Months more until he managed to tone down the spit-fire tough guy front he built up to shield himself from the world. The pep-talks in training had just frustrated him; the second and third chances made him feel weak. Jesse was just past nineteen the first time Reyes found him shaking fully-clothed in the locker room shower at three in the morning.

"Jesse, what the hell?" Drawing tighter in on himself, Jesse hadn't looked up. Reyes reached for him and hissed when his hand touched the water. "This is fucking freezing pendejo, get your ass out of there."

A firm hand pulled him to his feet and steered him towards the clean towels. He was so numb that he barely noticed the warm pressure on his arm. Back in his room, he was told to put dry clothes on then come back out. 

"I didn't know you had trouble sleeping, kid. Wanna talk about it?"

And talk he did, too much too fast, about nightmares and past mistakes, not even knowing why he felt compelled to share all his insecurities but doing it anyways. After that, Reyes kept a closer eye on him. 

Despite how much Jesse gradually dumped on the man in the months that followed, Reyes didn't talk much about himself. Another birthday had long passed before Jesse knew him as anything more than Commander. Soon after Fareeha first came to stay on base, he brought Jesse to one of her birthday parties. This had been an incredibly odd excursion for them to go on at the time. Jesse wouldn’t have thought in a million years that any of the higher ups from Overwatch would want him around. He wouldn't find out until much later that Gabe had told Ana that they should welcome him into the fold. She happily took control of the situation, and for years Jesse just assumed it had been her idea.

Ana had been the first person to ruffle his hair and pat him on the back. She had placed her hand on his shoulder as soon as she saw him enter, to steer him to the people she wanted to introduce him too. Jesse had mumbled his greetings, but had trouble focusing on anything but the point of contact. No one touched him. Not so gently, not ever. 

After that first day, things changed. The positive social contact was plentiful and the kindness they all showed Jesse brought a sort of light to his life. That feeling was something that he’d never really had before. He would hold Fareeha's hand sometimes and carry her around on his shoulders. She always held onto his hair too tight and pinched his ear to make him go where she wanted. Reinhardt would occasionally bless him with a rib-creaking clap on the back. When Strike Commander Morrison graced them with his presence he would shake Jesse's hand firmly. 

Gabriel was like a completely new person too when he was with these people. Jesse realized quickly that they were like his family. Gabe would greet Ana with a kiss to both cheeks, or chase a squealing Fareeha around the room and throw her over his shoulder like a potato sack. He hugged Morrison. More astounding than anything, he had no shortage of genuine laughter. This took Jesse aback. Whenever he heard the rich sound he would turn and watch with wide eyes. Even after almost four years, that wasn't an experience he had been especially privy to and now that he got to see it...well, decades later, Jesse would still remember those first times he saw Gabriel laugh.

They threw Jesse a birthday party when he turned twenty-two. Ana had insisted after finding out that they missed the last one. Jesse would never admit it, but he had cried a little into his spiked punch. He didn’t remember the last time he’d celebrated a birthday, always telling people to forget about it when the time came around.

Gabe found him alone on the outside terrace. He had tried to slip out the door quietly but Jesse knew it was him without turning around. He'd memorized the way his commander’s footsteps sounded without even meaning too. "Hey, Jefe."

"You know this party is for you, right?" Gabe asked quietly, leaning against the railing next to Jesse. 

"It's real nice, I 'preciate it a lot," he replied, pointedly not making eye contact. At this point Gabe was pretty good at figuring out what was going on. Still, he always made Jesse say it out loud.

"Then why are you out here, instead of being social? Reinhardt has had a little too much punch and it's getting really entertaining. He'll start singing any minute now."

Jesse fiddled uncomfortably with the cup in his hands. Gabe waited. 

"I don't feel like I belong here, Sir."

"You think you're too good for us?" Gabe said with a grin. 

"On the contrary."

"Alright Jesse,” Gabe said firmly. “First things first, you've got better aim than everyone in this building but Ana, and you're shaping up to be a damn good agent. Second, you're one of us now. None of us are any more or less special. We've all got our ghosts, we've all done things we aren't proud of. There's nothing in your upbringing that makes you any worse than me. We're even, alright? And third--” his voice softened significantly and Jesse finally looked up, meeting his eyes. “When we're here, not in front of the recruits? I'm Gabe. Got it?"

Jesse finally smiled as Gabe jostled him with a bump of their shoulders. He was almost convinced. "Sure. Okay."

After Gabe had gone back inside, Jesse felt the tingle where their arms had touched, a warm feeling in his stomach. Shaking his head, he brushed it off. Must have been the alcohol. He went back inside just as Reinhardt was picking Ana up with one arm and Angela with the other, the three of them starting to sing something loud and incomprehensible. Jack took a delighted Fareeha to bed as soon as the song was over, much to her protest.

The rest of the night was one of the best of Jesse’s life. He doesn't rightly remember a lot of it, just snapshots. Ana dancing to loud Spanish music. Gerard throwing a knife cleanly through the middle of a giant stack of cups without it falling down. Jack tossed a ping pong paddle frisbee-style at it directly afterwards collapsing the entire thing. 

Gabe laughed so much that night. Jesse did too, burying his face in Gabe’s shoulder and just absolutely losing it. He didn't even remember why; what was so funny? But he was with Gabe, and now the one thing he didn't think he would ever forget was how good it felt to be that close to him. In more ways than one.

When Gabe granted him permission to use his name and not Sir, it was like a switch had been flipped. Jesse still respected command, of course, no question. Suddenly though, they were friends. High fives for a mission well-done, jokes cracked--sometimes Jesse would catch his eye in a room full of people and Gabe would roll his eyes, or wink, or grin, and it made Jesse feel so damn good. He felt like he was finally part of something, finally where he was supposed to be and not some kind of intruder. 

This new comfortable back and forth between them came with the best perks, too. Now Jesse knew Gabe’s middle name (Emanuel, and he hated it), his favorite basketball team (The Lakers), and the names of all three of his little sisters (Sofía, Violeta, and Isabella). The man secretly liked to talk a lot more than he let on, and Jesse was more than happy to sit and listen. 

They would play five card poker when the mission required waiting. Jesse taught Gabe how to cheat, despite his protests. 

“I’m too smart for this,” he would deadpan. “I don’t need to cheat to beat your ass at this game.”

Then he would, true to his word. Jesse would lose all his cigarillos but Gabe would give him back the peach ones because Gabe only liked strawberry.

The relationship was good. Great, even. There wasn’t really anything Jesse thought could compare to knowing someone enjoyed your company and had your back.

All the while though, he couldn’t get out of his head how good he felt when Gabe touched him. The feeling was almost frustrating. He was hyper aware of even the smallest things. They could do as little as walk past each other and Jesse would feel a pull to close the space between them. Once Gabe had brushed an eyelash off his cheek with a thumb and he couldn’t stop thinking about it for a week. 

Jesse eventually started to give in a little and began to fish for it, trying to find excuses for them to touch. Reaching out to be pulled standing when he could easily do it himself was pretty blatant. Brushing debris off a shoulder was a little less so. Then there was the most unsubtle thing of all--leaning on Gabe pathetically, complaining of imaginary aches and pains, hamming it up.The act made Gabe chuckle, so it was a double win.

He wasn’t being rejected in any way; if anything Gabe was going right along with it. To be fair, Jesse didn’t have much previous experience with friends, at least...not real friends. Neither of them actually brought it up in conversation, so Jesse assumed it was normal, fine. 

At some point--Jesse isn’t even sure when he noticed-- Gabe started reciprocating. His touches were different. They were _better._ He would gently nudge Jesse’s arm up when they were the range, even though there was no need to fix his aim. He’d pick Jesse’s hat up and then put it right back on his head as he walked past. When he came up to tell or show Jesse something, it would often come with a flat palm to the small of his back, as if guiding him--but there was nowhere to direct him, no reason for the touch at all. 

Jesse walked into the common room one night after a three day mission and collapsed onto the couch. He was too exhausted to think twice about flopping down into Gabe’s space, resting his head on Gabe’s lap.

“Why aren’t you in bed, Jess?” 

“Sss too early, I’ll fuck my schedule up if I let myself sleep now.” That was a lie and they both knew it; he didn’t have any semblance of a sleep schedule, hadn’t for years. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“Gotta finish the mission report, a-k-a do my actual job. Maybe I should make you do it, since you apparently have so much time on your hands.”

“Whoopsie daisy my mistake, looks like it’s my bedtime after all!” Jesse hooted, but before he could move to roll off the couch Gabe stopped him in his tracks. Fingers threaded through his hair and the sensation sent a little shiver through him. 

“Stay, Jess.”

Well, no way was he turning down that request. No way in hell. He settled back down. Gabe scratched lightly at his scalp and tugged some tangles out of his hair, all the while nonchalantly continuing to type with his other hand. Jesse felt like he would purr like a cat if he could, or maybe just stay like that for as long as possible. The idea suddenly came to his sleep-addled mind that maybe…this isn’t what friends do. 

He found himself drifting off before he could contemplate it further, the soft touches lulling him into blissful sleep. That night he dreamed of hands under his ribs and on his thighs. For a moment he thought he could feel the press of a kiss to his forehead and knuckles brushed over his cheek. When he woke up on the couch there was a blanket over him and he was alone. He wondered if he had dreamed the kiss. No, he didn’t think he had. _Oh._

Jesse sat on his epiphany for a while, trying to sort his feelings out. Well, there was a little bit of that. More of it was just letting his thoughts run wild. 

Was he allowed to have a relationship? Of course, that was a stupid question. Was it okay with--hell, Gabe was pretty much his boss. Well, Ana and Reinhardt were a thing, at least he was pretty sure they were. That wasn’t exactly the same thing, but it was close. Did he even like Gabe like that? No, that was another stupid question. Of course he did. 

Jesse felt like a stupid little kid worrying about it. He desperately wished he knew what he was doing, but he really didn’t. At twenty-fucking-four you would think someone who had done as much stupid shit as he had would have managed to have some kind of relationship. But no, and now here he was freaking out about something that wasn’t even really a big deal.

Except it was kind of a big deal. Gabriel was the closest friend Jesse had ever had. Gabe had given him his life back, taught him so much. The man had even deemed Jesse worthy of being a part of the group of people he held most dear. 

Jesse knew that not talking about things tended to make them worse. In his mind, there was only one option.

He found Gabriel in the kitchen.

“Were you ever going to bring it up?”

“Bring what up, Jessito?” Gabe hummed, not taking his attention off of the coffee he was stirring cream into. 

Jesse stepped into his space, much closer than he would ever have before. Any closer and he could press a kiss to the dark curls at the nape of Gabe’s neck. Instead, Jesse slipped his arms around the other man’s waist and slowly closed the gap, until they were neatly slotted together. Gabe went still but made no moves to stop him, just as always. Jesse dipped his head to rest on one broad shoulder. 

“This.”

There was a beat of silence. Jesse couldn’t help but squeeze a little tighter. God, holding someone felt so good, he nearly forgot that he was taking a massive leap of faith. And it was Gabe, and he smelled like spices and he was wearing one of his crazy soft, super ancient metal band T-shirts and Jesse loved him so much. Hell. Yeah, he did. 

He realized that he could be wrong about all this, maybe, but it was too late now. When Gabe finally spoke up, it felt like ten minutes but only seconds had passed.

“I didn’t want to influence your decision. You’ve always done fine with figuring out what you wanted, I let you do your thing. If you decided you didn’t want it, no harm no foul.” He put the spoon down on the counter and slid his hands over Jesse’s. “Well, kind of. It wouldn’t have been so easy if you had decided against me. I’m pretty damn fond of you, Jess. If you hadn’t noticed.”

Jesse suddenly felt like he could cry at that thought. _Deciding against him? I don’t know if I ever want to live without him._ Well, there it was. Feelings figured, not so hard.

“Fuck, no. I want this.”

Gabe let out a sigh of relief and pulled away, only to turn around and gather Jesse back into his arms. “That’s good,” he muttered.

Jesse grinned against his chest. “Only good?”

Gabe pulled back slightly and raised an eyebrow at him. “Really good. Very good. Great, eve-mmMph!”

Jesse cut him off with a kiss. This had been the part he was most worried about, but now that it was happening it seemed just fine. _Great, even_. Gabe pressed back with a small, happy noise and the whole thing was sweeter than apple pie. Not bad for a first kiss, not bad at all.

If Jesse thought the physical contact he had before was good, what he had after was some sort of heaven. Let it be known that giving shoulder rubs, holding hands and _especially_ getting hickies were all among the best experiences a person could have. Jesse didn’t quite know how he managed to live his whole life up until that point without them. Lord knew he wasn’t ever giving them up.

They took their sweet time with each other, both more than happy to indulge in the smaller joys of mutual appreciation. Jesse nearly forgot there was more, in the beginning. He rode high on soft touches, stole more than his fair share of kisses. Gabriel had an endless supply to give. When Jesse finally realized that he could have even more, languid exploration turned to heat and Gabe was just as generous. A part of Jesse was thankful that it hadn’t happened until then. He’d never trusted anyone more. 

When Jesse woke up after their first time, it was early morning, the sun not even up. He stretched, proudly taking mental stock of the bruises he had collected the night before. If he was right about the time, he hadn’t taken more than a cat nap. None of the people in this organization questioned what their fucked up inner clocks did these days, but if Jesse had been alone he would have rolled over and let sleep take him back. He wasn’t alone though. Gabe--always the workaholic--was still up, and Jesse couldn’t resist trying to get more of a good thing. He was greedy.

Nuzzling into his boyfriend’s neck, he tried to distract Gabe from whatever he was working on. “You know Gabe, I’ve had a lot of firsts with you.” 

Gabe didn’t look up from the screen in front of him. “Is that so, cielito?”

“Mmmhm. Y’are the first person I ever kissed.”

“So you’ve told me.”

“You bought me my first serape, threw me my first birthday party, busted me out of my first gang…”

“Pfft, shut up.” Gabe put the tablet down and gave Jesse the attention he was begging for. “What are you getting at?”

“Well, I think maybe..” Jesse grinned wickedly and reached down to dip the tips of his fingers under the waistband of Gabe’s boxers. “I think maybe it’s time to start on seconds.”

Gabe groaned and Jesse couldn’t see, but he knew there was serious eye rolling going on. “Fuck off Jesse, it’s only been like two hours.”

Jesse snickered and pointedly didn’t remove his hand, dragging blunt nails across the skin on Gabe’s hip. “Come on Jefe, I’ve only just begun here. There’s still so much I’ve got to learn.”

Gabe made a move to roll over. Immediately knowing he was about to be caught Jesse tried to get away, but Gabe was too quick. Before Jesse could escape he was on his back and pinned to the bed, Gabe looking down at him with an impressive fake-disapproving expression. Recovering quickly, Jesse grinned up at him and squirmed just to see how much he could. Gabe didn’t give him an inch. 

“If you insist, conejito.” Jesse could hear the smile in Gabe’s voice before it appeared on his face. “You’re lucky you’ve got the best teacher.”

“I sure am.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm awfully fond of this one, guys. (I feel like I say that every time but it's especially true this time)  
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> nickname translations: cielito is sweetheart, conejito is little bunny.
> 
> Thank you to both Jenna and Kasi for beta <3
> 
> follow me on twitter or tumblr if you like @ukelelerapgirl


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